Trigger
by ImagineThis22
Summary: Set after the season finale. Sherlock thought he could handle the situation with Irene a.k.a. Moriarty, but he soon realizes he can't. He thinks Watson will be angry, but he finds out that he may have misread her completely.


**_This story is for Kadge Rose-Feather! I promised to write this awhile back and I never got to it! SORRY! But, here it is now, so enjoy! :)_**

_I told you she was a trigger, Sherlock._

Sherlock ran his hand through his hair and slumped against the door to the Brownstone. Knowing Joan Watson, that was the first thing that would spill out of her mouth.

_I told you so, Sherlock, I told you so._

Sherlock fished around in his pocket for his key, but his pocket was mostly empty. Nothing but a crumpled up plastic baggie that used to contain cocaine.

He knew the only way he'd be able to gain entrance into the Brownstone was by Watson's hand.

He rapped on the door three times and did his best to straighten his clothes to seem as though he was completely sober and drug-free. He quickly shut his mouth, knowing if it remained ajar, the stench of alcohol would drift into Joan's radar and she'd bust him.

Joan opened the door and immediately knew something was wrong. "Sherlock…Why didn't you use your key?"

"I forgot it inside." He did his best not to slur his words, but they ran together anyways. He took unsteady steps inside and grasped the banister for support.

"Sherlock."

Sherlock could tell by the tone of her voice that she knew. She always knew. He turned towards her, expecting a lecture on how she knew she was right and that he should've listened to her, but instead her face read 'concerned'.

Sherlock gave a weak smile and before he knew it he was breaking down. He put his back against the wall and slumped down to the floor.

Joan knelt beside him and slid in next to him, putting her arm around his shoulders. "Shh, Sherlock. It's okay…I'm not mad…"

Sherlock let his guard down and rested his head on her shoulder, tears streaming down his face.

Joan rubbed his back and rested her head on his. "Sherlock, it's okay…It's okay, I'm not mad, Sherlock, I promise."

Sherlock's shoulder started to shake and his tears drenched Joan's blouse.

"Tell me what happened, Sherlock. I promise I won't be mad."

"You were right…She was a trigger…" Sherlock sobbed.

"It's okay, just tell me what happened." Joan gave his shoulders a squeeze to give him support.

Sherlock shook his head, not because he didn't want to explain, but he shook his head out of disappointment at himself. He had come all this way; he had been sober for almost two years and to throw it all away for some girl –_the_ woman- who had lied to him about who she was, was absolutely pathetic in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Watson." He took a deep breath and pulled his knees towards him. He rested his head between his knees and began to explain. "I said this thing with Irene –Moriarty," He corrected himself, "wouldn't bother me…but that was a lie…it was all a lie. It did bother me. I couldn't cope, I couldn't talk about it, I just couldn't. To be honest…I've had the stash of drugs and alcohol since our first day…"

"And the fact you didn't use it till now shows you have control. You had easy access to narcotics and you resisted the temptation…"

"Until now." Sherlock choked out.

"Yes, but everyone slips up every now and again." Joan reassured him. "I've worked with enough clients to know that every once and a while you'll slip up, but with them I was worried. With you, I'm not. You wanna know why?"

Sherlock lifted his head and looked into her eyes. "Why?" He sniffled.

"Because I know you. I know that this slip up will be a onetime thing because you learn from your mistakes."

"But it never should've happened. I gave into my temptations. I'm weak…"

Joan shook her head. "You? Weak? No way. You're not weak, whatsoever. You just made a mistake…like everyone does. Nobody's perfect, Sherlock."

"But I'm supposed to be." Sherlock smiled slightly.

Joan laughed softly. "That's the Sherlock I know and lo-"She paused. "That's the Sherlock I know." She blushed, trying really hard to cover it up.

Sherlock smiled to himself, letting her think he hadn't noticed. I mean he was _drunk_, not stupid.

Joan put her arms under his and began to help him stand up. "Let's get you into the kitchen. I'll make you some tea."

They shuffled into the kitchen, Sherlock using Joan's shoulders for balance.

Joan helped him into a chair and began to prepare the tea.

"How about some cocoa?" Sherlock suggested.

Joan flashed a smile. "Whatever you want." She began to heat the water for the cocoa after she had put the tea mix away.

Sherlock watched her and found himself smiling. Maybe he had misread her. She hadn't lectured him about relapsing…she hadn't even been mad. She had understood and had promised him that she'd never be mad at him. She accepted his mistake, something no one had ever done before.

She had proved to be a great sober companion, but she was an even better friend.

**_Thanks for reading!_**

**_Please Favorite/Follow/Review!_**

**_Thanks again Kadge Rose-Feather for this prompt!_**


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